Running Away
by viveamo91
Summary: After Reigonals, Santana decides to run away to Chicago with Brittany's little sister Amy. Another Angsty fic caused by Sexy.
1. Intro

**This is just a mini-chapter which will result in a mini-story, maybe 3 chapters. I want to be writing my other stories, but Brittana has way to much angst right now! Although….you know…It was always on. That whole thing was like something right out of fan fiction. I cried. Oh, yes, I cried. And Naya Rivera seriously had the most amazing acting skills ever. I could go on forever about the Brittana storyline from last episode. Really, I could.**

**So I just needed to get this out, this is more of the intro to the actual story, I hope you enjoy!**

The McKinley New Directions were all ecstatic. They had just won Regionals, with the Warblers coming in a close second. Their original song had blown the judges away, along with their expert dancing and singing. It was all so happy and exhilarating, Santana forgot, for almost a full second, about the sharp pain in her heart. But it was easy to remember again. Not only did she have the power couple themselves making out only a few yards away, she saw the entire family of the girl she loved, holding a bouquet of daisies, waiting to congratulate their little angel. Her own parents had smiled and said 'good job', they had never been too emotional.

Britt's family on the other hand, was different. Her parents both worked low-paying jobs with long hours, but when they were around they were happy and loving. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce weren't too much smarter than their oldest daughter, but they were just as sweet. The same applied to Brittany's youngest sister Mary. Amelia, on the other hand, was a different story.

Amelia, better known as Amy or occasionally Mia, was smart. She was much quieter than the rest of her family, and preferred sitting in her room writing to watching animated movies with her family. Around the time Santana was 13, and Amy was 10, Santana had wandered into her room while Brittany and her family watched Finding Nemo for the hundredth time. They had started talking, and they continued this ritual for years. One of their main topics was getting out of Lima.

Getting out of Lima. Santana had always wanted to, but at that exact moment, it sounded better than it ever had. After all, Reigonals were done, nothing was keeping her. She heard the sound of Brittany's laugh, along with Artie's. Santana felt the knife in her heart twist, and her eyes burn. She walked over to Amy, who seemed upset and bored to be at her sisters show choir competition.

"Amy. Wanna get out of here?" she said quietly Amy nodded and followed her out of the crowded lobby and into the cold Ohio air. They walked a few yards before sitting on some guard rails. Amy was quiet, quieter than usual. Santana had expected her to ask why they had gone outside, but soon enough she started the conversation herself.

"Remember how we used to talk about running away?" Santana asked wistfully. "Yes" Amy replied. It was obviously not an answer to the question Santana had asked, but the one that had been coming. "What do you think of Detroit?" Santana asked. "How about Chicago?" Amy said, while she looked up to the night sky.

"5 hours?" "You got somewhere you need to be?"

The two girls walked to Santana's car slowly, as if they had some hope that someone would come out after them, telling them running away wouldn't fix anything, that they should face their problems. They heard nothing but the wind whipping through the late evening air. They climbed into the car and Amy typed a Chicago address into the GPS. Both girls texted their parents, informing them that they were going on a short "girls trip." Santana's parents didn't care. Amy's parents didn't know they should.

"Estimated arrival time is 1:54 am" Amy announced.

"Ok. Amy…did something happen to make you want to go all the way to Chicago?" Santana couldn't help but asking.

"I'll tell you when you tell me" Amy replied.

Both girls sat in silence after that. There were two elephants in the room…the car actually, which was uncomfortable. They wouldn't talk. They couldn't


	2. ChicagoDay 1

**Hey! Got a lot of Story Alerts for this story, which makes me happy! This didn't go quite as planned, but please enjoy!**

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At 2:17 Santana and Amy arrived at the hostel. They hadn't spoken for almost the entire car ride. Amy had slept for a bit, and Santana had cried. Until a few days prior, Santana had rarely cried while sober. Now it was all day, every day.

They walked into the hostel, which was much cleaner than they had expected. In the air-lock Santana immediately spied some gay-rights group newspaper. It was the kind of thing she'd never seen in Lima. The girls walked to the front desk, which was occupied by an over-weight middle aged woman with a sweet face. Her name tag read "Martha" She was a bit surprised to see two young girls walk in that late, especially one wearing a bright blue dress.

"Hello, girls, it's a late night for young things like you to be about! What can I do for you?" Martha said cheerfully, although the exhaustion was clear in her eyes.

"We'd just like somewhere to stay, please" replied Santana, as she felt her eyelids threatening to close over her eyes, which were still swollen from crying.

"Of course dears, just fill out this form, and I'll find you an empty room in a jiffy."

Santana filled out the basic information, listed her age as 20 and Amy's as 15. It was less than believable, but Martha could sense that all they needed in that moment was a place to stay and get away from their problems. She saw dozens like them in a week.

"Ok girls, thank you so much, here's your room key. Would you like to rent a locker for your larger luggage items?" Martha asked.

Amy and Santana looked at each other, the only thing they had was Santana's purse, which contained a little money, some lip-gloss, and a few tampons. There was also a crinkled picture of Brittany.

Amy smiled back at Martha and shook her head no. They walked over to the elevator and went to their room, number 231. Santana opened the door and looked around. It was tiny, but clean. Immediately on her left was a sink, then a room with a toilet and tiny shower. Then there were two bunk beds and a four-locker complex. The room was musty, but all around clean. They walked in and closed the door behind them, not even bothering to turn on the lights.

Santana walked to the bed on the right, took off her shoes and laid down. She was still wearing her uncomfortable dress and tights from Regional's, it was the only thing she had. She heard Amy begin to cry silently, and she did the same. The next thing she knew, it was morning.

In front of her was a plate with a muffin, a buttered bagel, and a huge cup of coffee. Amy sat on the top bunk on her side, eating the last few pieces of cereal. "Free breakfast here." she explained.

Santana sat up in bed, a feeling similar to a hangover washing over her. The only difference was it didn't take her any time at all to remember the events of the previous night, or what caused them. She took a large sip of coffee and started in on the blueberry muffin.

"Santana, one question."

Santana stared into the Styrofoam cup of coffee and nodded slightly.

"Are we here to wallow or forget?"

It sounded like an honest question. It was an honest question.

"Let's forget. For now." she replied. Amy nodded and began to climb down the ladder from the top bunk. "New clothes?" she asked, eyeing the Latina's twisted dress. Santana smiled for the first time and nodded.

Santana didn't feel the need to go to a fancy store and buy nice clothes. Instead the girls stopped at Target and she grabbed some black sweatpants and a large pink t-shirt from the juniors section. She didn't bother trying them on, she didn't want to have to be alone. If she was in the dressing room she would be in private, and she'd start to cry. Crying is the last thing she wanted to do.

The girls made their way over to the food section, grabbing a box of Cheeze-Its and Oreos. Santana was focused solely on trying to block out every thought of Brittany. Amy was focused on analyzing Santana, trying to decipher what everything was about.

She knew Santana was in love with her sister, and it was likely related to that. She wondered if she had finally got sick of seeing Artie all the time. Amy knew she had. He smelled like cheese, and quite honestly, made weird noises during sex. Not that Santana's ear piercing screams were music to her ears, but she'd learned to block it out from years of practice.

They made their way to the check out, where a young cashier, nametag reading Devin, flirted obviously while he eyed Santana's cleavage. He was cute, with golden-brown curls, piercing brown eyes and a straight white smile. The old Santana would have flirted back, while sucking in her stomach and pushing out her chest. But she didn't even try to fix her messy hair. Devin was just a stupid boy. And Santana could never love a stupid boy. Santana couldn't ever love a boy, she realized, and she walked out of Target.

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After a few hours of wandering around the hostel and taking brief naps, Amy decided it was time she and Santana actually did something. She opened the door carrying a small portable radio. Santana, who had been curled up on the bed eating Oreos since they'd gotten back from Target, looked up.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Santana asked, which was one of the first things she'd said all day.

"Some people I met in the lounge, they're writers. They told me I could borrow it." Amy replied, as she fumbled with the dial, trying to find a good station. She locked eyes with Santana, the thing she always did when she wanted to say something important. "We need to dance and forget for a little, San. I don't know what possessed you to come here, but you know that I have a general idea. And you know you have to face your problems, but for tonight, lets just forget, ok?"

Santana nodded but didn't get up from the bed. Amy squealed as she heard "Song Away" coming from the radio. She went to Santana and grabbed her hands, pulling them along with the time of the music while she sang.

**"See what your man has done to the world**

**see what the world has done to your man**

**You know im leaving you, you dont need me**

**Lovin you wasnt always so easy"**

**"**_Loving you wasn't always so easy. Got that right_" Santana thought bitterly. Then she got out of bed and danced with Amy to the chorus, pushing all thoughts of Brittany out of her mind, to the best of her ability.

"Tomorrows just a song away, a song away"

They danced for hours, to upbeat songs that helped them forget their problems, if only for a little bit. A few of the lyrics hit a little close to home, but Santana managed to forget it after a few seconds. Song after song, they danced, laughed and sang. On the commercials they'd make fun of the products or the announcers voice, which was especially entreating during the male-enhancement pill ad.

After the songs started to get slower, they switched the radio off and popped some Cheeze-its and Oreos in before laying down with each other on Amy's bed. Amy looked at Santana's face, which was extremely close to hers. She laughed randomly, which wasn't typical of her.

"What, Amy?"

"Its just weird having my face be so close to yours. I'm not used to it" Amy replied

"Virgin" Santana said mockingly. Then she realized her mistake, she didn't exactly want Amy giving it up to get rid of her v-card. "But, you know, don't give it up to just anyone"

"Who was your first?" Amy asked quietly, stepping over a boundary she hadn't before.

"Some guy, he's not important. Which is why it sucks. But the second time I ever had sex was the time that felt like the first."

"What?" Amy replied, not at all following what Santana had just said.

"The second time I had sex meant way more than the first." Santana replied, her eyes becoming swollen again, the memories of that night, of the person flooding her mind.

"Because of the person it was with?" Amy said cautiously, knowing that over-reacting would stop Santana from sharing.

"Yeah." Santana replied, wiping her eyes as they were on the brink of spilling over.

"Was it Brittany?" Amy whispered, almost inaudibly.

Santana's tears fell down the side of her face as she nodded.

"Santana." Amy said, looking straight into the girl's crying eyes "Tell me why we're here. From the start."

And so Santana began telling Amy the long, amazing story.


	3. A Little Backstory,  A Lot Of Hurt

**AN: I haven't been able to write for a bit, but I was feeling angsty as hell tonight, and have been thinking about this for a while. I think there will be 1 or 2 more chapters of this.**

**Writing about Brittany and Santana's childhood was a little different, I tried to relate the general age to my own experience. Would anyone have bough it if I mentioned the girls in their class having bra-parties every week in the locker room before gym in 5th grade? No? I've had a strange life.**

**In this chapter there is a paragraph that some people may be somewhat officered by. I'm sorry.**

**You are all lovely, please review.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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"Santana." Amy said, looking straight into the girl's crying eyes "Tell me why we're here. From the start."

And so Santana began telling Amy the long, amazing story.

"I remember the day I met her. I remember her hair, so blonde it was almost white, pulled into pig-tails. I remember the soft pink shirt she was wearing, with orange butterflies. And the white skirt, and bright pink shoes. I remember looking into those bright blue eyes for the first time. I remember I got chills, and my heart dropped, and my knees shook. I thought I had eaten something bad, or s ghost passed through me. My heart raced and I thought I was sick. I almost told my mom I wanted to leave the park, but I wanted to play with her so bad.

"I remember after that, everything was just great. We were in each others 1st grade class, and all the grades after, and we were best friends. I remember in 5th grade, she started wearing a bra. At first I wanted a bra, too. But, then I realized I wanted to touch her chest, and at the time, I didn't realize why. I used to sneak into her underwear drawer when she was asleep and just touch her training bras."

Santana looked up at Amy, next to her on the bed, realizing for the first time she was relating disgusting things about a younger version of her sister to her. However, Amy seemed to be intrigued, not grossed out. Santana continued.

"Then in 6th grade, out of nowhere, I ran my hand over her chest, and it felt like I was on fire. She just laughed and I laughed with her. But I was terrified. For the first time, I was terrified. But, at the time, I was also excited. Then in 7th grade, I kissed her, in my backyard. I felt like I was high the rest of the night. The next day, though, I started to deny it. I told myself it was just friendly, and everything. I told myself that, while we kept kissing and doing other things. I told myself that for years.

But sometimes, like when I looked into her eyes, or when I lay awake in bed at night. Something would tell me that I loved her that I was…"

Santana choked on the word 'gay.'

"I screwed guys, for a million different reasons, honestly. It felt good, occasionally, any way. But most of the time, it was to convince myself and others that I like guys, and to be popular. Such a cliché, I know. I'd always go back to her. And I'd always try not to think about why I did that.

"Now, just recently, Artie happened. And it makes me sick. I mean it just makes me want to throw up. And each day, I just fall more and more in love with her, even when she's sucking his face off. I guess when we sang "Landslide" in glee club, it made me realize I really do love her. It made me stop fighting it. I went home, and I felt great. Scarred to fricking death, but great, because I had finally admitted it to myself."

Santana took a breath in, as she had been talking non-stop for quite a bit. She looked at Amy again, who's brown eyes were wide with wonder, aching to know more of what the normally closed off Santana had to say.

"Amy?" Santana said, interrupting her own story.

"Yes?"

"I'm gay."

Amy nodded, silently.

"What do you think about that?" Santana asked, a new flood of tears forming in her eyes.

Amy grabbed Santana's hand. She had been planning what to say to Santana when she finally told her for a few hours.

"Santana. I love you. And I've known you were gay for a long time, I've never thought any less of you because of it. And yes, there are some bullies at your school who may think differently, but I feel there's nothing wrong with being gay. And your parents will feel the same way, and your friends, so why let a few dumbasses stop you?"

Santana let out a sob before asking "Why do you think I turned out gay?"

Amy played tentatively with the cross around her neck. She knew her idea of religion and sexuality wasn't any kind of normal, but Santana had asked for her thoughts, so she gave them.

"I believe that you're a lesbian because God made you that way. I believe when he was making you, planning your life, he was also creating someone else, someone to become your soulmate, just as He does with everyone. And I believe for you, that person is a woman. If its Brittany, I don't know. I think it could be. But He made you a lesbian, someone meant to fall in love with women. And you shouldn't be ashamed of any quality God gave you."

Santana nodded, taking in what Amy had said. She wasn't sure if she agreed with her on the God thing, but everything else made sense. She decided to get to the point of the story.

"Anyway, I came to school the next day, and I told her everything. That I love her. And she turned me down. She told me she loved me, but she couldn't break Artie's heart. And it killed me. Kills me. And I needed to get away from the pain."

Santana was all cried out. She stated the story more as facts, but the knife in her heart continued to twist. Soon after, she said goodnight to Amy and went to her bed.

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Meanwhile, back in Lima, Brittany sat on her bed, her knees tucked up, her chin resting on her knees. She listened to her ipod, singing softly along to the lyrics.

"_**I never meant to start a war.**_

_**You know I'd **__**never**__** want to hurt you" **_

Tears slowly slid down her soft white cheeks. She never wanted to hurt anybody. Especially not Santana. A few months ago, she would have gladly done anything to anyone just to make Santana happy. But now, she also didn't want to hurt Artie. He was so sweet, and she really did love him. But she loved Santana, too. She knew she had hurt Santana. But if she hadn't, it would have meant Artie would be hurt.

But now Santana was gone. And Santana hurt. Rachel was hurting, too. So was Mrs. Pillsbury, and a lot of other kids in her school. Brittany hurt, too. She had hurt for a long time, because Santana didn't love her. Then Santana did love her, but she had to let Santana down. She hurt Santana. And now she was hurting even worse than before.

Brittany ripped the headphones out her headphones and laid back. There was so much hurting. It confused her, and messed with her brain. She was sick of the hurting, and the confusion. But it stayed.


End file.
